


The Conversation

by jane_x80



Series: Unlovable [3]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Conversations, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 09:06:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5491601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jane_x80/pseuds/jane_x80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continues after In The Cold Light of Day, how Tony is cared for by Gibbs and the team. Then Jeanne wants to speak with Tony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> Recommend reading [Unlovable](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5355569) and [In the Cold Light of Day](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5455034) first.

Tony slept well that first night that he spent at Gibbs’ house. For someone who had spent most of his nights alone, choosing to leave his companions’ beds before morning arrived, he had no trouble sleeping in Gibbs’ arms. Tony has always thought that he was one of those people who cannot sleep well with others in the bed with him – he has never enjoyed cuddling, not with any of his bed partners of either gender – and for those nights that he had spent the entire night sleeping with someone, he finds that he sleeps fitfully and feels uncomfortable and trapped when cuddling is involved. Ironically, the only person he has slept many nights through with was Jeanne Benoit, back when he had been in love with her, and she with Tony DiNardo. At the time, he had thought that actually not fleeing from her bed halfway through the night had been a sign. 

Sleeping with Gibbs – just sleeping, without any of the fringe benefits that usually need to occur before Tony will actually sleep in somebody else’s bed – makes Tony feel safe and warm. That first night when he got up to relieve his bladder in the middle of the night, afterwards, he just crawled right back into the bed and nudged Gibbs’ body until he had been allowed to snuggle back on Gibbs in just the position he desired. He vaguely recalls exchanging sleepy kisses with the older man but not much else before falling back to sleep, cuddling his entire body against the older man, sighing with contentment when Gibbs’ arms go around him.

In the morning, he wakes up alone in the bed when his phone alarm goes off. Gibbs is an early riser. Tony pokes his head out of the bedroom, smells coffee from downstairs and smiles. It is a workday so he shaves, showers and dresses before padding downstairs to the kitchen.

Gibbs is sitting at his kitchen table with a cup of coffee, a bowl of Cheerios and the newspaper. He looks up and smiles at Tony. “’Morning, beautiful,” he says, turning his face up as if expecting a kiss.

After a slight moment of hesitation, Tony leans down and presses his lips softly against Gibbs’. “Good morning, studmuffin,” he replies with a grin.

Gibbs glares at him, “Don’t you start,” he says warningly. “At least call me something respectable.”

Tony looks at him thoughtfully. “You don’t really look like a honey. Or a sweetheart.”

“I look like a studmuffin?”

“Hmm. I might need to see you naked before I can truthfully answer that question,” Tony grins mischievously. “Or maybe judge you based on performance.”

Gibbs rolls his eyes. “You could just call me by my name.”

“You’ve been calling me beautiful instead of my name.”

“That’s cause you are, beautiful.”

“At least let me get coffee first,” Tony snorts, “so I can choke on it when you say that.”

Gibbs’ blue eyes twinkle, even as he tries to glare, “You’re in fine form this morning. Sleep well?”

Tony pours himself a cup of coffee and sees that Gibbs has left the sugar bowl and a container of hazelnut creamer next to the pot. “I did, thank you,” he says shyly, as he fixes his coffee. “You?”

“Me too,” Gibbs smiles back. “There’s Captain Crunch in the cupboard if you want it. I have to get groceries or I would have made you something more substantial for breakfast.”

“I do like my Captain Crunch,” Tony gets a bowl and pours cereal into it and then pours milk on it. Then they sit and breakfast in companionable silence as Gibbs returns his attention to his newspaper and Tony begins checking out the news on his phone.

Afterwards, they both finish getting ready for work and Tony rides in with Gibbs. When McGee and Bishop arrive later, they find Tony deep into the paperwork for the Jeanne Benoit case that they had just closed. Gibbs nods at his junior agents, then leaves for a coffee run.

Startled, Tony realizes that Gibbs has not left his desk, staying with Tony until McGee and Bishop arrived. Not sure what to do with this, he ignores it for the time being and smiles at his two probies when they both stand by his desk.

McGee is staring at him, frowning, while Bishop is smiling.

“Good morning, Tony,” Bishop says cheerfully.

“Morning Bishop. Morning McGee,” Tony says pleasantly.

McGee begins to open his mouth, and Tony shakes his head to interrupt. “Let’s get to work, McGee,” he says with no expression.

“You doing OK?”

Tony gives him a wordless stare, and the two men silently stare at each other. McGee is the first to look away with a soft sigh. “Fine, getting to work, Tony,” he huffs.

“Tim?” Tony says softly.

“What?” McGee answers, annoyance evident in his tone.

“Thanks,” Tony gives him a small smile. “I’m OK.”

McGee smiles back. The rest of the day is fairly normal, although Tony stays fairly quiet – they mostly work on the paperwork for the case, and in the afternoon they begin looking at cold case files. The normally gregarious man remains subdued for the next few days, and he finds that he is never alone – he eats lunch and dinner with one or more of his teammates, and every night, unless they are all working around the clock in which case none of them are ever really alone, he is delivered back to Gibbs’ doorstep.

That first weekend, McGee and Bishop take him to a classic movie marathon at the artsy theatre in town all day Saturday, and Abby takes him and McGee to a concert later that night. At the concert, the three of them dance their heads off. It is the first time McGee has gone anywhere like a concert with Tony, and he has to hide his amazement at the ease in which Tony slips into a concert-going persona, and the smoothness of his dance moves. Abby has obviously seen it all and the two of them dance together easily, more familiar with each other’s bodies and moves than Abby was with him, and McGee and Abby had actually had a sexual relationship at one point. He wonders if perhaps Tony and Abby had a history as well, although surely one or both of them would have told him about it.

When Abby drops him off at Gibbs’ house, it is close to 0300 and although he tiptoes in and has decided to sleep on the sofa, he finds Gibbs still in the basement, working on the boat. When Tony finally arrives home, Gibbs turns all the lights off and snuggles with him in bed, dropping kisses in his hair until they both fall asleep. On Sunday, Tony gets some time to himself at his apartment after asking Gibbs to drop him off to get more clothes and things. He ends up doing laundry and playing piano for a while before he gets uneasy, packs his things, and drives himself back to Gibbs’ house.

For the first week, he finds that he welcomes the company, especially if he isn’t expected to be very social. But halfway through the second week, he begins to chafe from the overprotectiveness. Also, sleeping with Gibbs every night and not doing anything else other than chaste kisses in the mornings and at night is beginning to wear on him. Not the sleeping part, or the companionship part, but the wanting Gibbs badly part.

After they close a particularly difficult case, Tony returns to Gibbs’ house, and parks his car in the driveway, when all of a sudden he feels the need to leave. Without getting out of the car, he backs out onto the street and speeds away, ignoring his phone. After driving around aimlessly for a while, he ends up at his apartment.

He parks in his parking spot and sighs. No doubt Gibbs is angry that he has ignored Rule 3. He looks at his phone and sees that he has missed calls, text messages and voicemails from Gibbs, McGee, Abby, Bishop, Palmer and Ducky. He sighs again and decides to call Gibbs.

“Tony?” Gibbs sounds concerned when he answers.

“Hey.”

“You OK?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened? I saw you in the driveway.”

“I don’t know. I had to leave.”

“Where are you?”

“My place.”

“No you’re not. I’m at your place.”

“Parking lot. I’ll come up.”

Tony hangs up and wearily goes up to his apartment, taking the stairs even though the elevator is working, just to prolong the dressing down he is sure to get. He unlocks his front door and slips in, closing the door quietly behind him.

Gibbs is sitting on the sofa with a beer in his hand, feet up on the coffee table, a game on TV. Gibbs smiles at him, “Hey, beautiful.”

Tony glares at him. “That’s just not normal,” he grumbles as he kicks off his shoes and shrugs out of his jacket. He pads to the kitchen, pulls out two beers and takes them to the sofa. He leans down and kisses Gibbs’ upturned face, handing him a beer. “Hey, darlin’,” he says.

Gibbs makes a face.

“Don’t like darlin’ either, huh?” Tony says. “Well, I’ll keep trying.”

“You do that.”

Tony slumps down on the sofa next to Gibbs, puts his feet up on the coffee table and lets his head slide slowly down onto Gibbs’ shoulder.

“You OK?” Gibbs asks gently.

Tony shrugs. “Yeah.”

“Why’d you leave in such a hurry?”

“Not sure. Just needed some time to myself I guess.”

“You can always get that. Without scaring anyone.”

“Sorry.”

Gibbs puts his arm around the younger man and kisses his temple. “Getting tired of being surrounded by people?”

Tony shrugs. “Yeah. And no. It’s confusing.”

“Just let me know, next time. I was worried about you.”

Tony nods. “OK Jethro.”

“Now you have to call Abby and reassure her you’re OK. I already called her but she’ll need to hear your voice or she’ll be storming your apartment to check on you.”

Tony smiles. “She’s sweet.”

“Yes she is.”

“How’d she know I wasn’t home anyway?”

Gibbs looks guilty.

“You _told_ her?”

“Well, I didn’t tell her exactly. I just called her and told her to let me know if you showed up at her place.”

“Is that why I have messages from everyone on my phone? She called everyone?”

Gibbs shrugs. “I may have called the others with the same message.”

Tony stares at Gibbs for a long moment before he puts his arms around the older man, burying his face in Gibbs’ chest. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“It’s OK. You’re a grown man, like you said.”

“Didn’t mean to get you so worked up. Can’t be good for the uh, pains. Were you OK?”

“I was fine. McGee tracked your phone. We knew where you were.”

Tony grins. “I was just driving around. Going nowhere.”

“OK.”

“I’ll call next time I need a break.”

“Good.”

“How come you’re not yelling at me?”

“I don’t want you to keep running away from us,” Gibbs says simply.

“This isn’t like you.”

“I already yelled at McGee and Bishop and Ducky. Got it out of my system.”

“Lord, I really have to apologize to them,” Tony covers his face, tips of his ears going red.

“It’s about time they took all the crap from me that you usually shield them from,” Gibbs says grumpily as he pulls Tony closer to him and feels the younger man relax against him.

In the next few weeks, Tony’s life returns slowly to normal, although he still never eats alone, and he sleeps in Gibbs’ arms every night, either at his apartment or at Gibbs’ house. There seems to be more team dinners during these weeks, and Tony finds that he enjoys making dinner for Gibbs and the team every so often.

On the physical side of their relationship, Gibbs and Tony have graduated to exchanging passionate kisses, although Gibbs is careful never to initiate anything more than tender, chaste, kisses, leaving Tony to decide on how far he wants to take anything. Despite the ache that Tony feels, the burning need to make love to Gibbs, he takes Gibbs’ promise very seriously. Until he believes that this is real, that Gibbs will not change his mind or tire of him, he will also abstain from initiating sex.

It is a month after their return from South Sudan, and Tony is almost back to his normal animated, mischievous, talkative self. McGee, Bishop and he are in front of the plasma, discussing their case – the theft of an Admiral’s classic car, a 1969 Boss 429 Mustang – a car that the Admiral had owned since he purchased it in the 1970s and has lovingly maintained for all these years, making its theft not just a financial loss, but also a devastatingly emotional one, and is something Tony fully sympathizes with, having lost several of his own beloved classic cars. Tony is recounting in great detail the features of his Mustang that had been blown up by the people targeting La Grenouille when he is interrupted by a soft, throaty voice.

“That really was an awesome car,” Jeanne says. “We had some good times in it.”

Immediately, Tony’s head snaps to hers, his eyes wide with shock. And suddenly, all the warmth in them when he had been conversing with his teammates drains away, leaving behind an emotionless sea of green.

“Jeanne,” he greets her, the impish grin quickly replaced by a blank mask, and to Jeanne’s surprise she felt the loss of warmth and affection deep in her gut.

She notices McGee touching the young blond girl on her wrist, giving her a meaningful look and she turns away, her phone to her ear, and then McGee is shaking her hand and leading her away from Tony with greetings, platitudes, and concern for her husband. Unable to tear her eyes away from Tony, she sees him close his eyes for a long moment, and she can feel his tense nerves and anxiety, even though his face remains expressionless. She is amazed, even after all these years, she can still read him, perhaps even better than she can read her husband, which had made his betrayal that much more painful. For as well as she had read him, he had managed to hide some very big things from her.

She watches, unaware that there is a hunger in her luminous eyes, as Tony squares his shoulders and opens his eyes, turning her way, a small, impersonal smile in place. Before anything else happens, Agent Gibbs has almost run down the stairs and, along with McGee, begin speaking with her, asking solicitously if she and her husband have recovered from their ordeal. Obviously the little blond girl had been on the phone to call Gibbs down from wherever he had been. She is barely aware of her wooden responses, her eyes latched onto Tony, who is now bent down a little, speaking to the little blond girl. For the life of her Jeanne cannot remember her name, but the sudden spike of jealousy that burns through her surprises her. The sight of Tony’s head, so close to that sweet young thing’s, makes her angry. She watches as the girl gently touches his wrist, and he gifts her with one of those sweet, shy, smiles that she had had to work so hard to receive, all those years ago.

Finally, she takes a deep breath and tries to control her emotions. She even manages to smile at Agents Gibbs and McGee, who are obviously performing the role of human shield.

“Agent Gibbs, Agent McGee, I wonder if I might have a word with Agent DiNozzo,” she finally interrupts them. “In private?”

Gibbs’ blue eyes harden in anger, and McGee’s large, hazel eyes narrow in suspicion.

“Dr. Woods, you must understand that it would be unwise for you and Agent DiNozzo to speak without witnesses, given the nature of your past accusations of him,” McGee says firmly. Jeanne does not miss the formality in McGee’s tone.

“I understand that. And I assure you that all that is over. I just need to speak with him, for a moment. Perhaps buy him a coffee – for doing all that he did to help return my husband to me, despite the things that happened in the past.”

“Like accusing him of murdering your father?” Gibbs says.

Jeanne sighs. “It was a bad time for me. I was really upset and hurting.”

McGee’s eyes tell her that she had not been alone in the hurt, when they flick to Tony quickly. Tony’s face has remained carefully expressionless, and his eyes keep straying to Gibbs’ face, as if needing an anchor.

“Tony? Can I take you out for coffee?” Jeanne asks him directly. “I promise I won’t accuse you of murdering anyone this time.”

Again Tony’s green eyes flash to Gibbs’ charismatic blue ones, before the impersonal smile reappears. “Let me speak to my boss for one second, OK?” he says.

Then he walks away, trusting that Gibbs will come with him, and Jeanne can almost feel that bond between the two men, as when he had yelled “Thank you Boss!!!” while the helicopter filled with death-dealing Marines had rescued them. The two stand on the other side of the glaring orange stairs, backs to them, silver head and brunette close together. There is nodding, some shaking of heads, but overall she feels that she will be allowed her request. Gibbs has a hand on the back of Tony’s neck now, his fingers in Tony’s hair, and the body language there is unmistakable – Gibbs is offering comfort, reassurance, and perhaps something else, something undefinable. His hand moves from the back of Tony’s neck, to cup Tony’s face possessively, and then fleetingly, the back of his hand strays to Tony’s cheek, the movement so quick that if she had blinked, she would have missed it. That tender gesture seemed at odds with the gruff exterior that she had encountered, but if anyone can melt an icy exterior, it is Tony DiNardo.

_DiNozzo_ , she reminds herself.

When the two men return, Tony’s face is slightly flushed and he keeps his hands in his pockets.

“You have to take Bishop with you,” Gibbs tells her without preamble, lifting his chin at the little blond girl who immediately strides to her desk to grab her weapon and badge.

“I would prefer to speak in private, Agent Gibbs. There are things that need to be said that should not be overheard by anyone other than Tony and myself,” Jeanne objects.

She watches as Tony goes to his desk and holsters a gun on his hip and slips his credentials into his pocket. All of a sudden she realizes that while she had been in love with Tony DiNardo the film professor, she could have easily been in love and most definitely in lust with Tony DiNozzo, the gun-toting federal agent, sexy as hell bad-ass motherfucker who still had all of the sweetness, playfulness, and knowledge that Tony DiNardo had. Asking him to choose all those years ago had been a mistake, when she should have gotten to know the real Tony DiNozzo, the entire package rather than the small part that she had been privy to. The sight of Tony in South Sudan – larger than life, combat-vest strapped on professionally and not awkwardly as hers had been, a knife strapped to his muscular thigh, and the automatic weapon slung across his body – that had been a revelation. For someone claiming to be against violence and actively working for peace, the sight of Tony readied for war had made her heart beat fast, her mouth dry, and her pussy wet. Despite the fact that he was readying himself to make war on behalf of her husband. Her missing husband. She had wanted him. Tony DiNozzo. Not Tony DiNardo. She had _wanted_ him. Badly.

“Dr. Woods,” Gibbs says, “Bishop will stay out of earshot but she will keep her eyes on you both. Unfortunately, we must protect Agent DiNozzo from any other possible accusations that you might have. If you don’t like this, you can talk to him in our conference room. And yes, it’s definitely monitored. And I would advise him to have his attorney present.”

Jeanne sighs and nods. “OK,” she agrees.

Gibbs exchanges a few words with Bishop before the three of them set off towards the elevator. While waiting for it, Tony turns one more time and gives Gibbs a lingering look, and Gibbs nods once before Tony turns away. The elevator ride is silent and awkward, all three maintaining distance from each other and not meeting each other’s eyes. Jeanne is the first to walk off the elevator and she turns to see Tony whisper something conspiratorially to the little blond girl – Bishop – making her smile. Again, that stab of jealousy burns through Jeanne, the strength of it surprising her. He grins down at her and gently tweaks her chin before they get off the elevator. Bishop begins to hang back, getting out of earshot.

“There’s a little coffee place around the corner from here,” Tony tells Jeanne as he waves and grins at the security guards. She sees that they are unsurprised at seeing Tony with a beautiful woman on his arm. Of course, Tony would not have been celibate all these years, and given the reaction from the security guards, she would guess that he is constantly surrounded by beautiful women.

He walks with his hands in his pockets, that gait so achingly familiar that Jeanne can barely resist slipping her arm through his as she had done countless times so many years ago.

He buys her a cappuccino, remembering her preferred drink, and for himself he gets a coffee laced with hazelnut and sugar, something she doesn’t remember him ever drinking before, as he had always stuck with hot chocolate.

“I thought you didn’t drink coffee?” she is unable to stop herself from asking. Was this one of the lies he had told her? What would it matter whether the real Tony drank coffee or didn’t? How did the hot chocolate fit into his undercover persona?

He gives her a quiet look. “I’d barely started drinking it when we were together,” he admits, “I don’t really like coffee, but I guess it’s grown on me now. Although Gibbs would argue that what I’m drinking isn’t really coffee as it wouldn’t be dissolving my guts as it goes down.” A small wry smile. Jeanne realizes that Tony is trying very hard to not hide behind the mask of impersonal professionalism. He is actually giving her the courtesy of presenting himself to her and not Agent DiNozzo.

The silence stretches as Jeanne’s eyes drink in the sight of her former lover, once upon a time her best beloved, the man who had broken her heart into so many pieces and dashed her every hope of happiness. He is still heartbreakingly beautiful – why hasn’t he gone bald or fat or something? And when he looks her in the eye, she sees an unexpected vulnerability in those emerald pools. And yet he is here, despite expecting her to hurt him. Again. Here he is, ready to take it like a man again.

“So,” he says, one eyebrow raised in that familiar way, when he is uncomfortable and unsure what to say. “You wanted to talk?” His eyes flick quickly to where Bishop is seated – far end of the room, nursing a drink, well out of earshot, but most definitely openly watching them.

“I did,” Jeanne says. Her voice comes out husky, filled with sexual promise.

Tony’s eyes widen as he recognizes that tone – he has heard her speak like that to him many times, almost every time preceding some satisfying and adventurous sex. He looks at her in disbelief.

Jeanne nods and blushes.

“You’re married,” he says quietly.

“I know. Which is why I thought we should maybe talk so I can get this out of my system. Get you out of my head.”

He nods. “That’s fair.”

They look at each other in uncomfortable silence. “I’m surprised about the… uh…” Tony raises his eyebrows and they both know he is referring to her desire for him.

“I never got a chance to see the real you in action before,” she says simply. “All those weapons strapped on you, and the jumping into danger.”

Tony nods. “Not a side of me you ever saw,” he agrees.

“Got a taste at the morgue that night,” Jeanne says, referring to the dealers attempting to hijack the dead body of one of their mules.

“Would’ve gone better if I’d had my weapon,” Tony says grimly. “ _Much_ better.”

“Never thought I would go for the G.I. Joe type.”

Tony laughs. “I was always told I’m more of a Ken doll than a G.I. Joe.”

“Whoever said that never saw you with that knife strapped to your thigh and that huge ass gun around your body.”

Tony looks at her, surprised. “Oh-kay. I think we should change the subject now.”

“Are you married?”

Tony laughs with derision. “Uh. No. Yeah, definitely not married,” his grin is humorless.

“Engaged?”

“Nope.”

“Seeing someone?”

Tony blows out a sigh. “Yes. Kind of. Well, I think so,” he says in that mixture of humor and self-deprecation that she had found so irresistible, and apparently still does. “It’s kind of complicated.”

Jeanne nods. “Is it her?” she jerks her head to Bishop.

“Who?” Tony looks genuinely surprised.

“That little blond girl. Bishop? I can’t seem to keep her name in my head.”

“Bishop!? No! God. She’s young. And married,” Tony shakes his head, looking slightly green at the thought which pleases Jeanne. He looks at her. “You’re jealous,” he says shrewdly.

Jeanne shrugs. “It surprised me too.”

He sighs. “Wow. We sure screwed each other up good, huh?” his honesty surprises her.

She smiles sadly at him. “I think we really did,” she says softly. “David is a _good_ man.”

“I know. Honorable. Noble. Brave. All of the above. A little crazy, too, for doing what you guys are doing where you’re doing it.”

“But you are, too, every bit as good, honorable and brave,” Jeanne’s hand closes over his, and Tony looks at her, wide eyed with shock. “I’m sorry Tony. I’m sorry that I accused you of murder. I’m sorry that I tried to make you choose to be someone you’re not. And I’m sorry that you got mixed up in the madness that turned out to be what my father was involved in.”

Unexpectedly, Tony’s eyes fill, and he takes a deep breath. He bites his lips, keeping his eyes down – she can feel him willing away the tears – and when he finally looks back at her, his eyes are clear and dry. “Thank you for that,” he says softly. “My biggest regret was that I allowed myself to be the instrument that hurt you.”

“I didn’t want to face it back then, but I realize it now, that you were hurt in that, as much as I was.”

Tony freezes for a moment, and then he nods, admitting the truth to Jeanne in that one simple gesture. He had lied to her when she had asked him if any of it had been real. He had told her what she needed to hear, and had unselfishly let her go. She squeezes his hand.

“I _am_ sorry,” Tony says, “for what it’s worth. I am. I wish things had been different.”

“I’m sorry too.”

He withdraws his hand, ostensibly to pick up his cup and sip his coffee, but she knows that he is trying to distance himself from her.

“Did you love me?” she asks, curious now.

Tony closes his eyes and tightens his hold on his coffee cup involuntarily. Without looking at her, he nods. “Yes,” he says, his voice so low and so soft, she can hardly hear him, “I did love you. That wasn’t a lie.”

“I _really_ loved you,” Jeanne says, equally softly.

“I know. Me too.”

“It really hurt me to see you again when you came to IDG.”

Tony nods. “Me too.”

“You really didn’t know it was me?”

“Nope. Stan used to work for Gibbs and he called us in after the mayday. We were following up. Nobody had run a thorough background on anyone since we didn’t really know what we were facing yet and we needed eyes on the ground right away.”

“Surprise, right?”

Tony grins. “Yeah. Definitely.”

“You look really good, Tony,” she says softly.

He blushes. “Thanks,” he finally says. “You do, too.”

They sit and sip their drinks, Jeanne’s eyes on him, Tony mostly keeping his eyes on his coffee cup.

“This is almost like our first date,” Jeanne says, “when you were so shy and so charming at the same time. It was adorable.”

Tony looks up at her, surprised. He grins for a moment before he lets it fade away. “I think I should get back to work,” he says softly. “And you should go back to your husband, Jeanne.”

The reminder is painful. Jeanne closes her eyes and stifles the gasp of pain.

Tony reaches over and gently strokes the back of her hand with his long fingers. “Jeanne, you know you have to forget about me again. You love David. He’s a good man. He doesn’t deserve any of the crap you and I had to go through. Remember what it is you love about David, and remember all the things that you hate about me.”

“I don’t hate you Tony,” Jeanne whispers, “that’s the problem. I wanted to hate you. But I never did. Even when I thought you murdered my father, I wanted you back.”

Tony pulls his hand away and closes his eyes. “God, Jeanne. In my wildest fantasies, I was always the one begging you to take me back, to forgive me. I never thought I would hear these words from you.”

“In your wildest fantasies, did I ever forgive you?”

“No. Not even in my wildest fantasies,” Tony says sadly. “Go home to your husband, Jeanne. What we have left between us is only fantasy, and wishes. What could have been, had either of us chosen to do things differently. I couldn’t have gone with you, you know that, right? You would have resented me and punished me, and I would’ve let you do it because I know I deserved whatever punishment you doled out, and more. You would have hated the real me, just a reminder of everything that went wrong with your life. I’d have hidden myself from you and just been Tony DiNardo forever. But Jeanne, he’s not all that I am. I can say now that I’m learning to like who I am, and it would have been a shame for both of us if I’d had to hide me from the world.”

Jeanne’s eyes are filled with tears, and they trickle down her face without her noticing. “I wish I had met the real you first,” she says, in a strange reverse echo of her last words to him when she left NCIS after he had been cleared of murdering her father. “I really wish I had met Tony DiNozzo. I think that I would have loved him, too.”

Tony smiles, a small, sad smile as he reaches across the table and brushes her tears away with his thumb. “I really wished that too,” he says softly. “Thank you for this. I’m glad we’ve managed to tell each other some truths.”

“Do you still love me, Tony?” the words slip out before she can stop them, her eyes are huge and shiny with tears.

Tony looks at her for a long moment. Then he shakes his head. “No, Jeanne,” he says heavily, and this time she recognizes truth in his words, “I don’t.” He sighs deeply. “Almost wish I did, except for the fact that you’re married and stuff.”

“This complicated thing you’re in, is she worth it?” she asks.

Tony blows out his breath. “Wow,” he says, chuckling softly, “what a question.”

“If I wasn’t married, would you dump her for me?”

Tony rubs his face tiredly. “I have to go, Jeanne. Let’s stop torturing ourselves with the what ifs.”

“Just this one question. Would you? Leave her for me?”

He sighs. Finally he gazes into those beautiful eyes of hers, seeing his pain mirrored in them. “No, Jeanne, I wouldn’t leave him for you,” he whispers regretfully.

_“Him?”_

He shrugs. “Apparently, all you women do is break my heart,” he says trying to make light of it.

“Do you love him?”

Tony’s eyes drop to his hands. He nods tightly. “I do.”

“But it’s complicated?”

“When is love ever simple?”

They nod sagely. “He’s a lucky man.”

“So is David.”

They smile at each other, quiet, truthful smiles. “Maybe we can have coffee and talk another time? Without a chaperon?” Jeanne asks.

Tony smiles. “I don’t think so, Jeanne. He won’t like it.”

“He’ll know?”

“Oh, he’ll know,” Tony assures her. “He always knows. And he definitely won’t like it.”

“He sounds pretty possessive.”

“Yeah, he is that. And protective.”

“So why is it complicated? Does he love you?” Jeanne watches as Tony’s face colors attractively.

“Yes,” he says huskily.

“Then?” she eyes him for a moment. “ _You’re_ the one with doubts!” she gasps.

“Jeanne,” Tony’s eyes plead.

“I’m not the only one who’s hurt you, am I?” she says softly.

Tony blows out another breath. “Wow, seriously. You are hitting all the right places today, Jeanne.”

Suddenly the image of Gibbs’ hand caressing Tony’s face tenderly pops into her head. “Is it Gibbs?” she asks, her eyes wide.

“Is what Gibbs?”

“You’re in love with _Agent Gibbs_? And he’s in love with you!”

“Shhhh,” Tony takes her hand, eyes wide. “How the hell did you…?”

“I still know you, Tony,” Jeanne says, smiling, “and I saw how he was with you. You’re totally the one keeping him at arm’s length. He’d be all over you if you’d let him.”

“What the fuck, Jeanne? You only saw us for like two minutes.”

“Nobody else knows?”

Tony shakes his head. “No one knows.”

“And these people call themselves investigators?” Jeanne snorts.

“In their defense, I think you saw much more of some real parts of me in that short time we were together than they have. Plus they’re scared shitless of Gibbs.”

“But you’re not.”

“I trust him with my life. He saved us all in Sudan.”

“So explain to me why it’s so complicated with him?”

“Jeanne!”

“Consider it a favor to me, for all the things we’ve done to each other.”

“I can’t talk about this, Jeanne. Not with you. Not with anyone.”

“Not even with Gibbs?”

He shrugs helplessly.

She reaches over and takes his hand again, smiling. “Don’t make the same mistakes with him that we made with each other. We were stupid enough to let each other go and hurt each other, instead of holding on to who and what we loved. If you love him, go be with him. Don’t fuck around or fuck it up. Don’t let it end with regrets and what ifs.”

Tony laughs sadly. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It is. Go and take what he’s offering and what you obviously really want but are too scared to admit even to yourself.”

“Was that how it was with David?”

She smiles. “I was really scared for the longest time. But he broke through all my defenses, and he’s just amazing. He was exactly what I needed.”

“Don’t fuck it up with him either, then,” Tony tells her. “I’m not worth it.”

“Yes you are,” Jeanne smiles sadly, “but now that we’ve established that we’re both taken and neither of us should fuck what we already have up, you should listen to me. Go, hold him close, love him and let him love you the way he wants to. I’ll do the same with David.”

Tony sits quietly for a long moment before he breaks into a breathtaking smile. “You’re something else, Jeanne,” he says admiringly. “I really have to get back to work though. We’re on a case.” Jeanne watches as he subtly moves his head and obediently Bishop gets up and walks out, waiting for them outside the shop.

“Theft of a classic car. I heard that bit.”

“Man, I still miss that car,” he grins.

“We had some good times in the back seat,” she giggles. The sound makes Tony smile.

“Fucking CIA and their fucking ops. That was one hell of a car,” he sighs as they walk out where Bishop is waiting for them. “C’mon Bishop. Back to the salt mines before Gibbs comes lookin’ for us.”

Bishop looks up at him with anxious eyes.

“I’m not gonna break, Bish,” Tony says gently.

“You’ve surrounded yourself with some good people,” Jeanne says.

“I have,” Tony agrees as Bishop slips her arm through his as they walk, feeling the need to stay close to her Senior Field Agent and somehow protect him, even though he is older, wiser, bigger, and stronger than she is. She looks at Jeanne Benoit and decides that she can definitely take her, if push came to shove. Even with one hand tied behind her back.

They walk in companionable silence until they get back to Tony’s building. Jeanne shakes Bishop’s hand. “Thank you for all that you did to help us, and help get my husband back safely.”

Bishop grins and nods awkwardly then steps aside.

Jeanne takes both of Tony’s hands in hers and stretches up to whisper in his ear. “Don’t forget what I said. Go be with him, and love him.”

Tony blushes and nods.

Jeanne kisses him, a lingering kiss on his cheek, gently puts her hand on his cheek, and sighs when he closes his eyes and leans into it.

“Be happy,” she whispers to him.

“You too,” he whispers back.

And then he turns and walks into the building without looking back. Not even once. When they walk into the bullpen, Tony casually throws his gun and badge into the drawer and looks over at McGee. “Did we catch a break with the Admiral’s car?”

“Tony!” McGee yells at him.

“At least I didn’t say ‘what, no balloons?’ again, right?” Tony grins.

McGee glances at Gibbs who nods. The junior agent grabs Tony’s arm and marches him right down to Abby’s lab while Bishop debriefs Gibbs.

Abby and McGee begin lecturing him and ignoring his cries of “I’m fine” and “Nothing happened” and “We just had coffee” and “She’s _married_!” until he just sits there nodding at them having completely tuned them out. Finally, Gibbs and Bishop walk into the lab.

“We ready to get back to work?” Gibbs asks.

“Definitely, Boss!” Tony jumps out of his chair and starts heading out.

“Tony,” Abby says pleadingly. “You know you can talk to us, right?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Tony insists. “You can ask Bishop all about it. I want to get back to work now.” And with that, he walks out of the lab and presses the button for the elevator, ignoring Abby’s comment about needing to teach Bishop to lip-read. He is completely not surprised when Gibbs slips into the elevator with him and flips the emergency stop switch.

He leans against the wall, crosses his arms and sighs as Gibbs gets right up in his face.

“Well?” Gibbs asks, surprising him with the gentleness of his tone.

“Like I told Abby and McGoo, I’m fine, nothing happened, all we did is have coffee, and she’s married,” Tony says.

Gibbs raises an eyebrow and looks at him, his blue eyes scouring Tony’s face, stripping him of his masks.

“Nothing happened, not really,” Tony says again, softly, meeting Gibbs’ gaze steadily. “Can I tell you this later? Tonight maybe? I don’t want to do this now. I just need to get back to work.”

Gibbs sighs. “OK,” he says, and as he leans away to flip the emergency switch, Tony takes his hand. He pauses and looks at Tony.

“Thank you,” Tony says softly, his green eyes gleaming softly, “for everything.”

Gibbs grins and runs a hand over the back of his neck, trying not to blush. “What brought this on?”

“I’ll tell you later when we’re at home,” Tony says, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss on Gibbs’ lips, flicking his tongue along his bottom lip and then sucking it in gently, then releasing him before he can respond.

“You with me?” Gibbs asks, carefully hiding his fear as well as his heart jumping for joy at the ease in which Tony had said “we” and “home”.

“Aren’t I always?” Tony says glibly. Then he realizes what Gibbs meant. “Wait, you didn’t think that I would go with her…?”

Gibbs shrugs. “You loved her once.”

Tony frowns. “But not anymore. And she’s married.”

Gibbs nods and steps back, flipping the switch to reactivate the elevator.

“Besides, I love _you_ ,” Tony adds softly, timing it perfectly so he practically skips out into the bullpen leaving Gibbs standing in the elevator.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't get this out of my head now and it's distracting me from RL. Not as much action as I'd hoped but I think Tony is pulling himself back together.


End file.
